Remote control parents

Technology is a wonderful thing. No one would have believed in the last years of the previous century that their bedrooms were being watched keenly and closely by their relatives in foreign countries. (Cue the introduction from Jeff Wayne’s War Of The Worlds.) Yet now it’s normal, convenient even, for me to Skype my parents and get them to show me what is in the bedroom I abandoned so many years ago, save for fleeting visits whenever I’m in the UK.
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How late it was, how late…

Today was sort of productive. Yesterday I was fairly exhausted, or perhaps ruined by staying up too late to watch the second Star Trek film, but today I’d had a full night’s sleep and should have been full of energy.
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Kind of back to front: The Queen and Mangosteen

After a day that was elongated through lack of sleep, I was keen for a bit of indolence at the end; home cooked food is great, but tragically there’s always washing up to do. I was meant to be meeting people for drinks over at the Fullerton, but when that fell through at the last minute and I discovered my wife was down at Harbourfront, I rushed down as fast as the MRT would take me. Initially we planned on eating at Jamie’s Italian, because there’s nothing so Singaporean as an Italian restaurant operating under the aegis of an Englishman, but everyone else in the Lion City had the same idea as us, and we couldn’t face wandering the mall for an hour waiting for a table. And so instead we went to The Queen and Mangosteen.
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Lifestyle guidance from the 1980s

Apparently, my life is not yet full enough of things to do, so this afternoon I posted on Facebook the following status:

Ask me any question you like, and I will attempt to answer, using only the lyrics from Pet Shop Boys songs

And then I waited to see what would happen next.
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